TURKEY
by Patcat
Summary: Some Thanksgivings
1. Chapter 1

TURKEY

So, this came to me as I drove to and from on Thanksgiving Day

CHAPTER ONE

The first November of their partnership she tried to get him to her family's Thanksgiving. When he gently rebuffed her offer, she guessed he had somewhere to go and someone to go with. She didn't know much about him then. She knew he wasn't married, and all signs indicated he'd never been. Her gaydar, usually reliable, said he was straight, and there were rumors of past girlfriends. She had a difficult time imagining a straight guy so cute and funny and smart not having a female companion happy to invite him to or fix him a turkey dinner, or one that he'd invite to a meal he'd fix. She could see him stuffing the turkey with some exotic combination. The image of Bobby Goren pummeling a turkey sent Alex Eames into a dangerous daydream. She'd always liked men who could cook, and she knew that Goren could cook, or at least talk like he could, and he was just good looking enough to make the sight of him working over a stove in her head very attractive. She shoved the scene out of her head as she'd done with a few other scenarios involving her partner.

She was surprised when she checked the duty roster a week before Thanksgiving and saw Goren's name listed for all of the next week. Captain Deakins walked by as she examined the list.

"Happy with the time off, Alex?" Deakins asked.

"Yes, Sir. Very happy. Thank you very much."

"You're welcome. You deserve it. You've got the seniority. Your results have been terrific."

"A lot of those results are due to my partner. He working all next week because he's the new guy?"

Deakins' face took on the puzzled look it frequently had when the subject of Bobby Goren came up. "No. He asked to work, and he didn't ask for anything in return. And he's already asked to work through Christmas to New Year's. I'm not complaining. It's good to have a volunteer when everyone else wants the time off."

Alex's pang of guilt reached her face.

"Don't worry," Deakins assured her. "Like I said. You've earned this."

"Goren doesn't have family?"

"He's got a mother," Deakins said. "She's his beneficiary, and I think she has some chronic condition, but he doesn't say much about her."

Alex walked slowly back to her desk. "I don't know much about Goren," she thought. "By the end of my first week with Phil Jackson I knew he'd been married twenty years, that he loved his wife, that his kids were the most brilliant on the planet, how he felt about the NYPD, and why the Mets would never win another World Series. But Goren…"

Goren was lost in a deep study of a thick psychology text when Alex reached her desk. "Hey," she said. "I think I know the how."

Goren started and blinked. "Uh, great. I think I might know the why."

"Now we just need to convince Deakins and Carver," Alex smiled. "By the way, just to warn you, I get all of next week off."

"You deserve it," Goren said warmly. "You'll get to spend a lot of time with your family. Good." He reached for a form, and it struck Alex that Goren had learned much more about her than she had about him in their short partnership.

"You're working all that week," Alex said cautiously. "You don't have plans?"

Goren's pen hesitated over the form. "Uh…just work."

His tone was polite, but Alex felt a door locked in front of her. She also reached for a form. It was late, and the bullpen's population declining. Deakins passed by their desks, quickly reviewed their findings, and approved their request to take them to Carver. Bobby and Alex continued working until they realized they were nearly the last two people in the squad room.

"I'm sorry, Eames," Bobby said. "I didn't realize how late it was. You should get out of here."

Alex yawned and stretched. "Yea." She shut down her computer and gathered her stuff. "Uh, Goren. If you'd like, you're welcome to come by my family's house on Thanksgiving night. There'll be plenty of food left, and they'd like to meet my new partner."

Silence followed, and Alex feared she'd thrown a rock against Goren's door.

"Thank you, Eames," Bobby said softly. "That's very kind of you, but I'll be busy here. And. I'm sorry. Earlier. I didn't mean to be rude. It's just…" He slowly unlocked the door that kept him from the world and opened it a few inches. "My Mom. She, uh, has this chronic illness. She's somewhere where she gets constant care. I try to see her every weekend. Call her every day."

Alex recalled that Goren disappeared for a few minutes every day. When he returned, he was usually in a quiet, resigned mood, although sometimes he seemed very sad or even angry. These phone calls to his mother must have something to do with his moods. She also remembered that she'd had to wait for him at some crime scenes on Saturdays, and he'd always arrived in a state as if he'd just been in some emotional battle.

"The holidays," Bobby continued. "It's always crowded and noisy. I don't visit her then. I wait a day or two for things to settle down."

Alex wondered what this illness was and why Goren had to travel so far to see his mother.

"Not a problem," she said, sensing that Goren had reached the end of his revelations. "I was being nosy. But, seriously, you're welcome to come by."

She wasn't surprised when he failed to accept her invitation. It did surprise that on Thanksgiving Day at about four in the afternoon, when members of the Eames family were in various stages of unconsciousness throughout her parent's home, that she felt the need to call her partner and see how he was doing. She stepped out on the back porch and dialed her cell phone.

"Eames? Is anything wrong?"

"No," Alex replied. She wished she wasn't shivering from the cold and knew why she was calling her partner. "Just wanted to wish you Happy Thanksgiving and remind you of the offer."

"That's very kind of you, Eames," Bobby said after a moment. "But I actually wound up in my uniform doing parade security this morning."

"I did that a few years ago," Alex said. "Anyone who's not a cop thinks it's great, that you get a front row to watch the parade. They don't realize your back is to it most of the time."

Bobby laughed. "But you do get to see the kids' faces."

"True. That's pretty cool."

"Anyway," Bobby continued. "By the time I got back to Major Case, most of the day was gone. I haven't got done half of what I planned."

Alex thought that Goren at least hadn't slammed a door shut in her face. "I wanted you to know that the offer was still good."

"Thank you. I appreciate it. Happy Thanksgiving, Eames."

"Happy Thanksgiving, Goren."

This pattern continued over the next years. Alex extended an invitation; Bobby gently rebuffed it. It continued after she learned just what his mother's illness was.

"What did you mean," she asked as they drove back to Major Case after leaving a bipolar witness at a shelter. "You've had a lot of practice?"

Goren's treatment of this and other mentally ill people had impressed Alex for its gentleness and compassion. She expected to hear that Bobby volunteered to help the mentally ill or that he had a degree in psychology (it wouldn't surprise her if he had a medical degree) or that he was a psychiatrist who was also a very good detective.

"My Mom," he said after several moments. "Her illness. She's schizophrenic."

Schizophrenic. Schizophrenia. The words produced vague, terrible images in Alex's mind. She knew very little about mental illness. A few psychology classes in college and at the academy she reluctantly attended; a great aunt who was in and out of hospitals most of her short life; a cousin whose depression and suicide weren't talked about in her family. She knew the majority of the mentally ill people who floated the New York streets were victims, but the terrible violence few produced horrified her. She wasn't sure exactly what schizophrenia was. Did it cause a split personality? Hallucinations? Did it run in families? There were those rumors about Goren, and his behavior was strange, even if she was beginning to understand some of it. Was he, as her older brother and some other cops warned her, a whack job, a danger not only to her career but to her life?

Alex choked the steering wheel as her thoughts raced.

"I'm sorry," Alex said. "I'm sorry she's ill. I'm afraid I don't know much about schizophrenia. Is your mom in a…a…"

"A mental hospital."

"It's bad?" Alex mentally kicked herself for asking such a stupid question. Of course it was bad.

Goren, to his credit, didn't dismiss the question. "Yea. She really can't function outside of a hospital. The meds that help a lot of people don't help her." He stared out the window. "Look, Eames, if this bothers you. Disturbs you. I'll ask for a transfer."

Alex forced herself to concentrate on the road. "How did we get to you wanting a transfer? Did I say anything about not wanting you as my partner? Did you even give me a chance? Do you think I'm so narrow-minded, so stupid, that I can't deal with this?"

Goren shrank back in his seat. "No. No. Never. It's just. A lot of people, when they find out, they don't handle it well. I've heard the rumors. I know what people say about me. I've lost partners, friends, girlfriends."

"Like I said," Alex said calmly. "I know very little about this sort of thing. There's a diner over there. I'm hungry, and I deal better with everything with a cup of coffee. Ok?"

Alex enjoyed a good breakfast, but Bobby only ordered coffee. They sat in a corner, and he spoke quietly, stopping when the waitress came by.

"What," he asked, clinging to his coffee cup like a life preserver. "Do you want to know?"

"What is it really? Is it a split personality?"

He sighed, and ran a hand through his hair. No, he explained. Schizophrenia wasn't a split personality. His mother didn't think she was two or more different people. Sometimes she seemed to be different people, but she wasn't. She didn't think she was Marie Antoinette or Marilyn Monroe or Joan of Arc. She heard voices and saw things that weren't there. She thought people who were trying to help her were hurting her.

"Sometimes," he said. "She thinks I'm someone who's impersonating her son."

"How long has she been ill?"

"At least since I was five." It got easier for him to speak as he spoke. "She showed symptoms before then, but that was the first time she went in the hospital."

"You must have been terrified."

"I'm not sure there was a word for what I was."

"She got better?"

"Yea. But she got sick again. And again. And it was always a little worse."

"I've heard about new drugs," Alex said. "Do they help her?"

Bobby shook his head. "Not much. Some of them help some people a lot. But some don't. The meds have to be taken every day. Even the new ones have some terrible side effects. And no one really knows how they affect people in the long run. Some cause tremors. Some slow down people so much. Some increase the risk of diabetes and high blood pressure. It's understandable why people go off their meds."

Alex took a deep breath. "What about you? Is it dangerous for you?"

To her great relief, Goren wasn't upset by the question.

"It's not contagious, although one of my mom's doctors says being around crazy people does seem to make a lot of people crazy." He smiled weakly. "The relatives of people with schizophrenia appear to have a greater chance of developing it. The closer the blood relationship, the greater the chance. But it doesn't mean that because your parent is schizophrenic, you're going to be too." He looked steadily at Alex. "I don't have it. I'm not doomed to have it. Every day I don't have it makes it more likely I won't. That's what you're worried about?"

He wasn't angry or accusing, only sad and resigned.

"Yes," Alex admitted.

"Makes perfect sense. You have to worry about your career. And your life."

For one terrible minute Alex wondered if he knew about the damned transfer letter she'd handed to Deakins in the first days of their partnership.

"Well," she said, recovering. "You do have a reputation. But the guys who've actually worked with you have great things to say about you. And I admit I'm still getting used to you. But you're a great detective."

Bobby looked up from his coffee. "Living with my mom. Trying to anticipate her moods. It made me observant. I was always trying to figure out what was going on with her, to learn what was wrong. The doctors didn't talk to me much. I used to think it was because they didn't want to scare me or that they thought a little kid couldn't understand. Now I think it was because they didn't know what was going on or what to do."

"It musta been hard for you. Did you have to take care of her? Did you have help?"

"It. My Dad. He. It's hard." He closed the door. "We better get back. Deakins will wonder where we are."

END CHAPTER ONE


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter TWO

As the days, weeks, months, years passed, Alex learned slowly—very slowly—about Bobby Goren. She learned that his father—or at least the man he thought was his father—deserted his family, that his brother—who she at first thought might be a creation to confuse perps—fell into a cavern of addictions, and that his mother devoured his life without gratitude. She learned—as Bobby did—why his mother might hate her youngest son so much that the woman couldn't forgive his existence. She learned that Bobby Goren was a good man who needed and cared for her, and that she needed and cared for him. She needed and cared for him enough that she forgave him his undercover work, especially after his stammered confession that one reason—THE reason—for it was because he not only wanted, needed to work, but that he wanted, needed, to be with her.

Through the years of their partnership, Alex steadily invited Bobby to Thanksgivings, Christmases, birthdays, weddings, anniversaries, every family celebration. But he gently, politely refused. The first Thanksgiving after his mother's death, Alex pressed harder than usual. Bobby was so depressed that it wasn't so much that he didn't respond to her invitation as he wasn't aware of it.

She wasn't sure what her welcome would be like when she knocked on his door late on Thanksgiving night. She heard nothing from inside his house, and she stood uncertainly outside his door. She didn't know if he was home. He could still be at Major Case. Ross had as much success as Deakins in getting Bobby to take off holidays. She supposed it was possible that he'd gone somewhere, but it was more likely that he was hunkered down in his bunker avoiding the world. The horrible thought that he might hurt himself hit her. She dropped her offering of leftovers, banged on the door, and fished Bobby's extra key from her purse. Before she could put the key in the lock, she heard it turn.

The door cracked open as she slipped the key back in her purse. "Eames?" The door opened wider to reveal a puzzled Bobby. He wore jeans and a flannel shirt over a black T-shirt. He looked tired and worn, but these days he always looked tired and worn.

"Leftovers," Alex said and lifted her bags.

Bobby warily looked at her.

"Here." She shoved a bag into his hands before he could protest. "Let's get this stuff into your kitchen." She pushed past him, and knew that it was Bobby's innate gentleness and kindness that let her in his home. He followed her into the kitchen.

"I bet," Alex said cheerfully. "That you're the one person in America who hasn't stuffed themselves today." She took the bag from him. "Your oven still operational?"

"Eames." Bobby recovered from his surprise. "What are you doing?"

"Fixing you Thanksgiving dinner." She was surprised how confident she sounded. "Where do you keep your pots and pans?" She opened and closed cabinets until she found them.

"Eames…You don't have to…"

"I know I don't have to. But I can and I want to." She handed two pots to him. "Here, rinse these out."

"Eames," he protested, but took the pots from her.

Alex took a deep breath and faced him. "I'm not going to leave you alone on this Thanksgiving. Not this one, Bobby."

Bobby stared at the pots for several moments. "Ok," he finally said, and turned to the sink.

He silently followed her instructions as they prepared the food. Alex became embarrassed by the amount of leftovers she had. Her family had responded enthusiastically when she mentioned she was considering taking some food to Bobby. Members of her family weren't always huge admirers of her partner. Her eldest brother was particularly critical of what he thought was Bobby's negative effect on Alex's career. Until her father and Alex had told her the whole story, Alex's mother held Bobby responsible for Alex's torture at the hands of Jo Gage. But her family also knew Bobby was a good man and a great detective. Her father, who knew something about being a whipping boy for the NYPD and had actually talked to cops who knew and liked Bobby, defended him, and as her family learned about Bobby's troubles, more members shared her father's opinions. They'd learned about his mother's illness when Alex was called away from a Thanksgiving, and responded by telling Alex to let Bobby know they'd help in any way they could. She let Bobby know. He was moved by their offers, but, as Alex expected, never took advantage of them. Much of her family attended his mother's funeral and all of it made donations in Frances Goren's name to various causes, which moved and humbled Bobby. Her family urged Alex to get Bobby to come to various Eames family events, but understood Bobby's polite refusals.

"I think," her father told Alex. "Family means something very different to your partner than it means to you."

Her family wasn't surprised when Alex arrived yet again without Bobby for Thanksgiving, but eagerly gathered leftovers for her to take to him. As she and Bobby opened and prepared the food, Alex wondered if anything was left at her parents' house.

"Eames. Just how much does your family think I eat?" Bobby asked.

She snorted.

"I mean," he said hastily. "I'm grateful. I really am. But there's so much food."

"You can bring it in for lunch for the next week," Alex said. "Where are your dishes?"

"Oh, I'll have to clean a couple of plates. I don't use many of them." He pulled two plates from a cabinet over the sink. "Would coffee be ok? I'm afraid I don't have any alcohol." In truth, he'd been fighting against the temptation to buy something to numb him.

"Coffee's great," Alex said. "And you always have the best."

Bobby rinsed the plates and silverware, fixed the coffee, and cleared and cleaned the kitchen table. He seemed resigned to eating something.

"Uh, Eames. I hope you're still hungry. I can't even begin to eat all of this by myself."

"I didn't eat that much today," Alex said. "I was busy playing with and helping the kids."

"Especially Nate?" Bobby poured two cups of coffee. "How's he doing?"

Alex beamed. She loved talking about Nate, and she loved that Bobby loved to listen to her talk about Nate. In spite of the fact Bobby had heard her sing the boy's praises just twenty-four hours ago, he patiently listened to her recite Nate's latest accomplishments. The subject of Nate led her to talk about her other nieces and nephews, and it was some time before she realized Bobby had ate little and said less.

"I'm sorry," Alex said. "I invaded your home and I'm babbling about my family."

"It's ok," Bobby said. "You may have invaded, but you brought food. Good food. And I like hearing about your family. Especially Nate."

"You didn't eat a lot."

"Yea," he admitted. "But that's not because the food wasn't great. It was. It's me. My appetite's been all over the place since, since everything. And…" He pushed stuffing around his plate. "I've always had mixed feelings about Thanksgiving. It didn't always work out well in my family." He smiled sadly. "Actually, I can't think of a time when it went well."

There were moments when Alex saw in a flash the huge differences between her and Bobby's childhoods. Eames' Thanksgiving were noisy, chaotic, even occasionally combative, but full of love. Bobby's experiences were clearly very different.

"You think," Alex asked when she could trust her voice. "You could manage some pie? I managed to snap a couple pieces of my aunt's pecan pumpkin."

"That sounds good. Is there whipped cream in all that stuff you brought?"

"There is."

They ate the pie slowly, partly because they were both already stuffed with food and partly because they liked being together. Alex talked mostly, and they avoided the subjects of work and Bobby's problems. Alex helped with the dishes and the packing of the leftovers. Bobby insisted on driving her home, and Alex offered the feeblest of protests. She was very tired, and she knew that Bobby would feel les guilty if he could do something for her.

"You'll be able to get home ok?" she asked sleepily as he drove her car.

"Yea. I got all the subway schedules out to your place memorized, even for holidays. And I can always get a cab."

Alex curled up in the passenger seat. "You could always stay in the guest room." She yawned. "I gotta admit. I appreciate this. I'm pretty wiped out."

"You've been up since when?"

"And you were at work. Are you tired?"

Bobby shook his head. "I'm fine. Just a few people at Major Case. I spend most of the day reviewing cases."

"Any breakthroughs?" Alex struggled to keep her eyes open.

"No. But some possibilities. I may have something by Monday."

"You working tomorrow?"

"Yea. I'm certainly not going shopping on Black Friday." Especially, Bobby thought. When you're the only person I have to buy anything for.

"What do you want for Christmas, Bobby?" she murmured.

He didn't answer right away, and she drifted asleep. She didn't hear Bobby softly say, "Peace. I want peace for both of us."

CHAPTER TWO


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

It was a year later when Alex entered the Starbucks near her home. She shivered as she pulled off her wool cap and gloves, and she reveled in the warmth and the smells of coffee, chocolate, cinnamon, and other good things. She scanned the store and saw Bobby Goren rising from a seat at a table in a corner. She smiled and waded through the crowded restaurant to reach him. As she neared the table she saw that a peppermint mocha and a large slice of coffee cake waited for her.

"Thanks," she said, taking the coffee in her two hands to warm them. "I owe you."

Bobby waved a large paw. "Not a big deal. After all, I'm gainfully employed now."

"As I understand it, you're more than gainfully employed," Alex said. "Just how many jobs do you have?"

"Counting occasionally helping Lewis with a car?" Bobby smiled.

"I think you have too much fun doing that," Alex said. "And does Lewis ever pay you?"

"Not in money," Bobby admitted. "But in a lot of other ways. But you're right. I've got several jobs, although most of them fall under the category of consultant. I did get the teaching job at Hudson."

Alex sat up. "Terrific!"

"We'll see," Bobby said. "It's an attempt to give students a complete introduction to criminal investigation. I'm team teaching with a forensic psychiatrist and a medical examiner. They're both very good and have a lot more classroom experience than I do. I have the cop's perspective. I think we can really offer the students something, but we're all a little territorial. But we all know that, and we like and respect each other, so I think we'll be ok."

"Do I get to call you Professor?"

"Yea. And doctor once I finish my dissertation. And if it's accepted."

"They accepted your proposal? You passed the exam?" Alex was as excited about this as the job at Hudson.

"Yea. They accepted my work experience and the classes I took. I took the exam about a week ago. I didn't want to tell you in case I failed it."

"Like there was any chance of that," Alex declared.

"More than you know," Bobby said ruefully. "Then I wanted to see if my topic was approved. And I wanted to tell you in person. You're the first person I've told." He looked shyly into his coffee cup.

"Oh, Bobby. That's wonderful. I know you were hoping for the job. And you've talked about the doctorate for a long time. I'm so happy for you. And proud of you."

Bobby's face reddened, and Alex realized she was the only person who could make Bobby Goren blush.

"Are you going to have time to do all of this?" she asked.

"I'm working out a schedule with Hudson and Deakins," Bobby said. "Both are pretty cool about my going for the degree. Deakins is already looking forward to seeing the dissertation published." He shrugged. "But Deakins has an awfully high opinion of me."

"It's deserved," Alex declared.

"What's deserved," Bobby said, eager to move the subject away from him, "Is his opinion of you."

It was Alex's turn to blush, and she realized that since she'd been twenty-one no one—not her father, not her brothers, not her boyfriends, not even Joe—could make her blush, except for Bobby Goren.

"I think once he got past the fact that I was a girl, he was ok." She sipped her coffee. "I guess it's kinda strange we both wound up working at the same place for our old captain."

"Or maybe not," Bobby mused. "I, uh, wanted to ask you about work."

"Sure."

"Deakins. He'd like us to work together. He's convinced the owner…uh…"

"McGarrity. Liam McGarrity." Alex tried not to smile. It was comforting that as much of a genius as Bobby was, he could occasionally miss some important stuff.

"Yea. Him. Deakins has convinced him we'd be a great team. Although, I don't think it took a lot of convincing. And, if you want to do it and don't mind working with me again…"

"I like working with you a lot. It's one of the reasons why I wanted to work for Deakins. That, and the insurance plan. I could afford to be picky. I've been squirreling away Joe's benefits. I know you were in a tighter spot than me."

"Yea." Bobby spun his coffee cup. "Selling the house and the car helped a lot. And I don't really miss 'em. My apartment has enough room for me and the books. And now I've got two jobs, and one of them has good insurance. I'm just about out of debt. Even considering getting another car."

"Don't know about that," Alex said. "Every time I drive, I wonder why anyone would have a car in New York City."

Bobby took a long drink of his coffee. "I haven't really thanked you. For not letting me drift away. For staying in touch. It's meant a lot to me. I think it…It may saved my mind. My life."

Alex reached across the table and placed her hand over Bobby's restless one. "You said you'd see me around. I wanted to make sure that happened."

Bobby stared at their hands for several moments. "That. I don't know what I was thinking. I couldn't have been thinking, to say something like that."

Alex gently tightened her grip on Bobby's hand. "I don't think either of us were thinking clearly then." She leaned forward. "You saved me too."

"What? How?"

"There were a lot of things I couldn't talk about with my family. I feel like I can talk to you about anything. Everything. My family doesn't know I was pregnant before Joe was murdered. You and my doctor are the only ones who know, and I like it that way. And they don't know Joe and I were having a rough time when he died. I can tell you anything. You won't, don't, judge me. You say the right things." Alex took a deep breath. She felt as if she'd finished a long and difficult race, and that she now stood in front of Bobby's heavily barricaded doors.

"I've helped you?" One of the locks clicked open.

"A lot."

"I…I've tried." Another lock clicked open. "I've tried to trust you." He flung open the door. "I care, I care a lot about you, Alex."

"Does Deakins' firm have a no fraternization policy?" Alex asked.

"I don't know. I don't think it's come up."

"And it has now."

"Yea it has." Bobby swallowed. "I love you, Alex."

She'd expected the word, but hearing them shocked her into silence.

"It's ok." Bobby made a valiant effort, but couldn't hide his disappointment and hurt, and his attempt to do so was heartbreaking. "Please. Just forget I said anything. Please. We can work together. I won't say anything. Please." He tried to pull his hand away from Alex.

"Bobby. It's all right." Alex recovered. "I love you too."

"Don't. Don't say it just to…"

Alex seized his hand in both of hers. "Bobby. I mean it. I love you. It's just…No one ever told me first."

Bobby slowly raised his eyes to meet hers. "You…You mean it?"

"Yes."

"I suppose," he said after a few seconds. "That jumping across the table and kissing you would shock people even in a New York City coffee shop?"

"I'm afraid so. But…My house isn't far away."

Bobby immediately stood. "This is a free day for me." He looked at her, and Alex's heart melted. "You're sure about this?"

"Oh, yes. I've never been so sure of anything."

It wasn't far from Alex's house, but they searched desperately for a cab to take them there more quickly. When one didn't immediately present itself, they began walking towards Alex's house. Their pace increased as they neared her home, and by the time they reached her door they were nearly running.

"Damn!" Alex muttered as she fumbled for her keys. "Why can't I find these when I most want them."

"I could always break a window," Bobby whispered huskily in her ear. For some reason, Alex thought it was one of the sexiest things she'd ever heard. It made fitting the key in the lock even more difficult.

She finally managed to get the key in the lock and turned. Bobby gently but urgently pushed her through the door, and pulled the key from the lock. He shoved the door firmly behind him. He clicked the lock shut, and turned to face Alex. He looked at her with so much passion and love that Alex's mind and heart melted. No one had ever looked at her like that. Bobby stepped up to her, wrapped his arms around her and kissed her. Even through her heavy wool coat she felt the heat of his body and his hands. The kiss dissolved what little was left of her ability to produce a clear thought. When she came back to herself, she was backed against the hallway wall. She and Bobby had both lost their coats, and their hands were under their sweaters. Bobby's hands and lips created warm, wonderful waves of pleasure on her skin, and from his moans, Alex guessed she was doing the same to him. She pushed his jacket off and reached for the bottom of sweater.

"No…Not here," Bobby muttered. "Bedroom. I want to be with you. But I'm not as young as I used to be." He looked into her eyes. "I want to make you happy, Alex. I want to show you how much I love you."

Alex wasn't sure how they got to her bedroom, or how they got their clothes off. She found herself lying on her back on her bed and looking up at Bobby.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm not in great shape. And you look so beautiful."

Alex reached for him. "You look wonderful to me."

They were lost in each other for the next minutes. They wanted to learn and memorize everything about each other. Touching each other had been forbidden for so long; they had denied touching each other, that it was a great joy just to touch. When they joined their bodies together, it was the end of a great, long journey for both Alex and Bobby.

Alex slowly, reluctantly, emerged from the glorious delirium Bobby had taken her. She became aware that Bobby draped over her, and that he was shaking. She carefully—she wasn't sure she completely controlled her body—place her right hand on his head and weaved her fingers through his curls. She realized he struggled not to cry; she wrapped her left arm around his head.

"It's all right," she whispered to him. "You're wonderful. It's all right."

Her words calmed him. He raised his body and turned on his back. He reached for her and gently pulled her to rest on his chest.

"I'm sorry," he said in a shaky voice. "It meant so much to me. And you were so wonderful." His hands weaved in and out of her hair.

"You were pretty wonderful too. Why did we wait so long?" Alex shook her head.

"Sheer fear and stupidity on my part." Bobby yawned. "You wore me out."

Alex smiled. "You may have worn me out."

His lips brushed her hair. "You know I love you. That I'll do anything for you?"

"Anything?"

"Anything."

"Come to my family's Thanksgiving."

"But…Your family. Not all of them like me very much."

"The ones who matter do," Alex said. "My Dad thinks the world of you. My Mom, now that she knows what you're really like, really likes you. She wants to see more of you."

Bobby was quiet for several moments. "It's just," he finally said. "I'm not sure I know how to celebrate Thanksgiving…or Christmas…or any holiday. It's been so long since I even tried. And when I was a kid. They usually went so badly."

Her heart bled for him. "Do you think," she asked when she could trust her voice. "You could try making some new traditions?"

"To do that, I'd have to have old traditions," Bobby said. "But I'd like to start making some with you."

Alex shifted her body and kissed him tenderly on his nose. "Good," she said as she settled back on his chest. "I gotta warn you about a couple of things. One. Bringing someone to a big Eames event is a declaration of romantic intentions."

"What?" Bobby smiled. "All this time you're been trying to get me to come…"

"That was different," Alex said. "You were my partner and fell into a different category. But now…"

"Well, it's true." He hugged her. "And I don't mind anyone knowing."

"Good." Alex settled into his arms and drifted towards sleep.

"Alex?"

"Hm. Yea."

"What was the other thing?"

"Other thing?"

"What was the other thing you wanted to warn me about?"

"Oh. That. My sister's oyster dressing. Avoid it."

Bobby chuckled. "Noted. I love you."

"Love you too."

END


End file.
